


Double Trouble

by d_aia



Series: Similar, but Not the Same [3]
Category: Deadpool (2016), Deadpool (Comics), Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Amazing Spider-Man (Movies - Webb), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, F/M, M/M, Not Avengers: Age of Ultron (Movie) Compliant, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, POV Outsider, POV Sam, POV Sam Wilson, Stand Alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-23
Updated: 2016-06-23
Packaged: 2018-07-16 19:48:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7282279
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/d_aia/pseuds/d_aia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam meets Wilson's ex.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Double Trouble

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own the movie (and characters, locations, personal histories etc as are shown in it).This is the work of fanfiction.
> 
> A/N: This story is a stand-alone, so you don't have to read the others in the series to understand this one. Also, in this story, Vanessa is Copycat (can copy appearances and powers). It takes place in our time, but the Deadpool movie happened about 20 years ago. Or, if you'd prefer, the Avengers movies happen 20 years in the future. Peter is also about 25, so basically **the whole timeline is screwy**. Sorry about that!
> 
> Edit: Now, with a [Chinese translation](http://luffysweetieursosexy.lofter.com/post/1d491e2c_eddf711). Courtesy of JX :D.

Sam was no stranger to calling people on their shit, but he didn’t feel like this was any of his business. Deadpool was a loose cannon, and Sam didn’t want to provoke him for anything less than a good reason. And this wasn’t it. He wasn’t sure that Deadpool having a relationship with Spiderman qualified like any sort of reason, since they were both consenting adults.

Sure, they all knew that Deadpool was a mercenary, but he either didn’t take jobs in the country, or the police and the feds couldn’t prove anything since there wasn’t a warrant out on him. It was like his super power was dodging authorities. Plus, even if he was, it wasn’t like criminals, even serial killers, never had a relationship. There was nothing illegal about it. Only if Parker knew about a crime and he didn’t say, and really? Parker was too much of a good guy, and Wilson seemed to care for him, so it seemed probable that he wouldn’t tell Parker anything.

It was all very complicated, and Sam was willing to let somebody else do the lecturing. 

So, Sam was watching TV, determinately being OK with the entire thing. Parker came in at one point too, and was fiddling with something in the kitchen. In the end, if Stark hadn't said anything, and continued to have nothing to say against Wilson’s presence in his Tower, Sam sure as hell didn’t. Wilson was even sharing his nachos, at the low price of hearing him bitch about how hard it is these days to find a favorite restaurant.

“And, even if by some miracle some genius cook doesn’t have a brilliant idea for how to _improve_ the food with all kinds of shit, every week, _they_ are closing the place down. Once it was baked sap. I mean oven heated tree sap and it wasn’t even maple, man.”

It was annoying, inspiring, and hilarious. Sam exchanged amused glances with Parker, once he sat down and shook a tub of popcorn at him. Sam carefully, but deliberately, leaned over Wilson, who smiled a bit, then took a handful.

“I'm not talking about some mysterious ‘they,’ I'm talking about the owners.” He tensed the tiniest bit when Parker came in and sat down, then went on, “They go down. As in bankrupt. As in ‘no tenemos dinero.’ Imagine how sad New York will be without a good taco.”

“I feel your pain,” Sam commiserated.

Suddenly, and Sam didn’t know why he hadn’t expected it, Wilson was in Parker’s lap. Nothing worth worrying there. The flutter of a butterfly knife expertly handled though, that was concerning. That Wilson had the knife at Parker’s throat, already cutting a fine line, was even more so.

“Don’t you feel my pain, Vanessa?” Wilson asked pleasantly.

Now _that_ , was the most concerning thing Wilson had done yet.

“What are you talking about?” Sam asked, voice calm.

Wilson looked at Sam like he was an idiot. “I think they don’t know,” Wilson mock-whispered. “Consider me shocked.” He got closer to Parker and shouted, “Shocked, I tell you!” 

“Wade, _I_ don’t know what you’re talking about,” Parker said earnestly.

“You’re good.” Wilson shrugged without moving the knife. “But me, I have an obsession. You know how I am. Stalker to hell and back. It’s not healthy,” he said, with faked sadness.

Sam swallowed.

“Yeah, you would’ve had a better chance of pining _that_ on me. Provided that you could catch me.” Wilson glanced at Sam for a fraction of a second, ghoulish smirk under his mask. “Unfortunately, Pete put a stop to that. I mean, I am good and all, but he's Spider Man.” He sighed. “It’s hard to stalk Tarzan, you know?”

“Thanks,” Parker said a small smile.

“Oh honey, I wasn’t talking about you,” Wilson cooed.

Parker inhaled. “Wade, I don’t understand.”

“I know how he looks at me, and it’s not that devotion _bullshit_ on your face,” Wilson said, disgusted.

“What?” chorused Parker and Sam.

“I know how he talks, how he walks, what he likes, but you do too.” Wilson paused. “That is… irksome. Now, this is going to be a lot harder. For me and you. For me, because they won’t believe me.” Wilson shot Sam another look. “Do you?”

Sam was caught. On the one hand, who knew what Wilson would do next if Sam told the truth, on the other it was never a good idea to lie in these situations. “I really think we could have a rational conversation without any knives.”

Wilson made a shocked noise. “Can we really?”

Sam nodded. “Yes.”

Parker lifted his eyebrows in agreement.

Wilson was not impressed. “I personally think that Pete would be more interested in why it’s bad for him.”

“No, I wouldn’t,” defended Parker.

“No, he wouldn’t, but you would, Vanessa,” Wilson snarled. “You know a little too much about him for me to forgive. And that’s why it’s going to be ugly: because you _will_ get rid of his face, and you’ll _also_ tell me how you know this stuff. Which should be impossible because of the already mentioned jungle-like behavior.” He smiled through a clenched jaw. “It may take a while, but I’m confident that we will make progress.”

“Do you expect him to stay there and take it?” Sam asked desperately.

Wilson laughed. “Pete would have made a move before now, but Vanessa isn’t him. She acts like she thinks he’d act when he's taken by surprise, so she doesn’t act like either of them. Who knows what she'll do?”

“I wouldn’t hurt you,” Parker said wounded.

“Do you not remember when we were in a relationship?” Wilson asked mockingly. “I know it was a long time ago, but your memory should still work. What would _you_ have done if I had a knife at your throat? Or do you think you're a special snowflake and everyone else has to put up with my abusive shit?”

“Wait, you think she’s your girlfriend?” Sam was worried, but he did his best to power through it. “How long ago are you talking?”

Wilson blew a breath. “I don’t know, I’m not too good with time.”

Parker’s eyes narrowed a fraction. “If he was talking about the Vanessa he told me about, it's been sixteen years.”

“Ah!” Wilson smirked. “I didn’t tell him about you. Someone has an overinflated sense of self.”

Sam didn’t know who was crazier: Wilson for believing that an ex-girlfriend had stolen his boyfriend's face; or Sam because he was starting to believe Wilson, the person who would have been diagnosed as insane if he’d actually gone to a doctor, and possibly if one saw Wilson on the street.

“Know what’s funny?” Wilson asked cheerfully. “You got his hair right, amazingly, the color of his eyes, even his strength.” He smirked, and looked down where Parker’s hands were clenched on his thighs. “But the way you look at me? Way too sappy. Add a little _spice._ ” His voice turned… intense. “And you got his _breathing_ wrong,” he purred.

So that was what they meant by confused boner: Wade's voice was all sex, but his face said that he'd kill whoever he was facing, _only_ after torturing them.

Then, because the situation was not complicated enough,  the elevator doors opened to reveal Steve and Stark. Sam could already see Steve opening his mouth. All in a day's complication for the Avengers.

“What’s going on?” Steve demanded.

Stark made a beeline for the bar with an air of not-my-problem around him so thick it was almost a fog.

“Let’s calm down, ok?” Sam pleaded.

Nobody got killed and Wilson was open to dialogue, so Sam had it handled for the moment. Or as close to it as anyone could come. Anyway, what the situation absolutely didn’t need was more people.

“I won’t calm down,” Steve said like total dunderhead. “He’s got a knife at Parker’s throat.” Maybe Sam could see things from Steve's perspective.

“He thinks that it’s not really Parker, but some old girlfriend, Vanessa,” Sam tried to explain.

Stark rolled his eyes, and poured himself a drink. He typed something on the table, then leaned on it with a bored expression. Steve, as a complete opposite, was getting worked up—jaw and fists clenched. He never liked Wilson, put him neatly in the category of bad guys, and never saw the need to make an effort.  He was right in a way: when somebody saw things in black and white, Wilson was definitely black.

“Maybe I'll just web you up,” Parker said.

Wilson rolled his eyes, managing to express how done he was with everything.

“Don’t be smug,” Parker warned.

Sam didn’t have to know Wilson very well to be able to tell that was not going to have the desired effect.

“’Or what?’ he replied dramatically,” Wilson said, going for dry.

Parker twitched and suddenly Wilson was webbed to the wall.

Steve sighed, relieved, but Stark’s back stiffened. His fingers flew across the table. And Sam, to his surprise, was not prepared to put the issue to rest.

“Got you,” Wilson yelled. He squirmed, wiggled, waggled and made what looked like yoga poses under the web. “Motherfucker,” he cursed at no one in particular. “Auch, ow, ow.”

Steve and Sam looked on. One with horror, the other with concern. Both were confused. Stark's hands were a blur, the table now making pinging noises. He seemed to be confused too, but at least he was doing something about it.

A shot rang in the silence.

The pinging became more violent, but Sam couldn’t  spare any of his attention.

“He heals,” Sam said. “Right?”

“Yes,” Steve said firmly with a nod, only to Sam it sounded like he wasn’t quite sure.

A red smear started to spread over the web.

“He can heal anything,” Sam said, emboldened by Steve’s uncertainty.

Parker rolled his eyes. “Yes, he can heal anything.” He sighed. “But I don’t like it when he's hurt,” he said sadly. 

Sam heard a thump on the window, but he didn’t move his eyes from the web.

“What’s going on here?” Parker’s asked bewildered.

Only it came from the wrong direction.

Sam closed his eyes, and took a deep, calming breath. He turned, saw two baffled Parkers, both of them quickly heading toward pissed. Sam took _three_ calming breaths.

Since Sam wasn’t touching that particular issue, he thought that it would be a great time to see what Stark was up to. He was making his way towards the wall, with the web, that contained the Wilson. Great! Somebody remembered Schrödinger’s Wilson. Only Wilson had already muddled his way through, as evidenced by the katana that was visible sawing through the web.

“It’s alive!” Wilson shouted, springing forth. 

Parker’s eye roll was magnificent, something to really tell stories about, and it wasn’t in any way lessened by his fond smile. “Frankenstein, want to put that electricity to work and explain?” His tone was snarky, but full of warmth.

And that was when it hit Sam. Wilson was right. The other Peter lacked spice.

“I see it,” Sam said, mystified.

Wilson gleefully swung towards Sam, and held up his fist.

Sam bumped Wilson’s fist. “You were right.” He saw Steve looking disapproving. “He was,” Sam defended to an astonished Steve, raising his hands. 

“Somebody copied you, baby boy,” Wilson explained to the young man Sam suspected as the original Parker.

“Really?” Parker asked, looking at Wilson’s ex, the other him. “No, what makes you say that?” he remarked, voice dry.

“Hey, I was the one that realized. The Captain was going to take my head off,” Wilson whined.

“You hate that,” Parker complained in turn. “It takes forever to reattach.”

Parker hid his trembling hands, but Sam still saw them.

“Like I’d ever hurt you.” Wilson pouted. “The injustice!” 

“Don’t shake your fists too hard, Wade,” Parker said wryly. “I’m not that special.”

Wilson made a funny sound, like he had swallowed a bug.

“Who are you?” Parker asked.

Vanessa didn’t answer.

“Wilson's ex—Vanessa,” Sam offered.

Parker gave Wilson _a look_.

“Hey, if you copy my new half and pretend to be them, without asking everybody and/or anybody, _maybe_ I'll _threaten_ you with a knife too!” Wilson batted his eyelashes. “But how about you stick to your strengths and lecture her. On _everything_.” He made a go-on gesture. “And… off you go!”

The declaration was followed by a long moments of silence.

Wilson narrowed his eyes. He tilted his head, and tapped a finger on his chin. “If you want to, of course.” He smiled.

“How can either of you prove that you are the right Peter Parker?” Steve asked, authority oozing from his every pore.

Everybody in the room frowned.

“It talks,” both Parkers, Wilson and Stark said at the same time.

Sam sighed. He may or may not have stifled a chuckle. No one was looking at him to know, anyway.

“What?” Steve asked, annoyed.

 _Steve_ was the target of the incredulous gaze in the room, and his stubborn side wasn’t slow in showing itself.

Sam decided to say something before something ignited. “Let’s talk proof. What kind do we have?” He thought for a second, then added, “I’m sorry, Wilson, breathing patterns can't be proven.”

Wilson shrugged, a what-can-you-do motion that showed his acknowledgement, if not his agreement.

“Breathing patterns?” the original Parker asked, eyes narrowed. “On second thought, that sounds creepy. I don’t want to know.”

Vanessa nodded, brows lifted.

“I know how you breathe,” Wilson said exasperated. “I notice things. I have eyes, and a nose and ears. Don’t  be fooled by the scars, I'm still a human.” He paused. “Barely.” He rolled his eyes. “And some of the things I noticed are about the person I live with and love.” He huffed. “’Creepy,’ he says. Creepy!”

“Are you having a breakdown?” Parker asked dryly.

“I might,” Wilson shot back.

Parker smirked. “Just follow my breathing.”

Wilson froze. He glared at Parker. Parker gazed back calmly. Wilson raised a hand and he covered his mouth. Parker grinned. No one moved. Wilson broke into chuckles transitioning straight into guffaws, and Parker followed. They were leaning on each other as they worked through their laughter.

Vanessa slumped on the couch, tired or sad.

“Proof,” Stark rejoined, putting the conversation back on track. “The communication device works with his DNA, his fingerprints, and his voice. Which they could all be copied, but neither of them said something about losing it, so there’s that.” He shrugged. “That leaves the webs.”

“What about them?” Sam asked.

“They aren’t attached,” Stark said dryly.

“Ha, motherfucking ha!” Wilson yelled.

“You think those came out from my body?” Parker asked, disgusted. 

“They don’t?” Vanessa asked at the same time.

She turned into a pretty, brunette woman.

“Nope,” Parker said. “Hello there.” He waved.

Steve sighed and went to the sit next to Stark. He grabbed his sketchbook on the way. The message was clear: he wasn’t  going anywhere, but he decidedly kept out. Stark made himself a sandwich as he worked on something.

“So where's the line?” Vanessa asked. “You stick to the ceiling, but you make your own webs? What sort of spider are you anyway?”

“One that doesn’t have web growing out of his ass,” Wilson said cheerfully.

Parker winced, “Tony’s not an iron man, Wade’s not a bet, Wilson’s not a falcon, and Rogers’s not the captain of America.”

“Too literal?” Vanessa sighed.

Parker nodded.

“What’s next?” Stark asked without looking up.

Parker shrugged. “We’ll talk and let you know?” he sounded uncertain.

“I think a lecture is coming,” Wilson sang.

Stark still didn’t look up, but he smirked. “Fine. Steve’s going to keep a eye on you.” He pressed something on the table and the feed a conference room appeared in thin air. Stark gave it a push to Steve. “Meeting room 2. I'll update the tower security. You'll have to ask Wilson if you need mediation.”

“We don’t,” Parker said firmly.

“Then I’ll stay here with Steve,” Sam offered.

Stark shrugged and went back to work.

Sam started making his way to the fruit bowl, when he heard Parker and Wilson whisper as they left the room.

“You recognize your ex even when she has another face,” Parker said.

“I recognize you, baby boy,” Wilson replied. “The rest was guess work.”

“I’m not that sp—”

Wilson interrupted by saying firmly, “You are that special to me.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading! If you want to comment (or just talk to me) you can do it here or on my [tumblr](http://e-alexandrescu.tumblr.com/).


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